


Just a little insight won't make this right

by Elisexyz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bonding, Forgiving is not that easy, M/M, Pre-Slash, gadreel is alive, sam is a mess, season 10 never happened, season 9 ending au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 20:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4493394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Sam had always been pretty quick to forgive. Forgetting and trusting, though, are completely different things. But what is the first without the other two?<br/>Or how Sam struggles to accept Gadreel and Gadreel tries to make up for the mess he made, while Dean is still missing and Castiel’s grace is fading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a little insight won't make this right

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, this is my first Sadreel fic ever. I'm excited, I hope it's not a complete mess. Anyaway, this started as a oneshot about Sam completely forgiving Gadreel, then I reached 6000+ words without having achieved that goal and... the whole thing became something else.  
> So, in my head this is gonna be a series about Sam and Gadreel staring a thing, that then becomes another thing and FINALLY becomes THAT thing. In a couple of words: my own season 10, with Sadreel, more demon!Dean and probably some Destiel.  
> Right now it's just Sam and Gadreel trying not to fuck everything up again between them. Mmh, enjoy?  
> (PS: you can find me in my [tumblr](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com), if you want)
> 
>  **Edit 15/08/2017** : This work is pretty old and- not really good, lol. I don't want to delete it, _but_ if you came here after reading more recent stories (or if you came here at all, actually)... don't judge me, I know I should probablty rewrite it XD

   
 

 

  
**Forgive**  
verb | for·give | \fər-ˈgiv, fȯr-\  
_to stop feeling anger toward (someone who has done something wrong);_  
_to stop blaming (someone);_  
_to stop feeling anger about (something);_  
_to forgive someone for (something wrong);_

 

   
   
**\- Day 1st**  
   
“Sam. Please, he needs help”  
Castiel breathed heavily, carrying his unconscious brother, blood on his chest and dust in the hair. Sam nodded and walked towards them, his eyes red and the smell of alcohol behind him. _Dean dead in his room_.  
“I know that I’m asking you a lot, but, please, take care of him. He meant well, just like me”  
Gadreel lied on Sam’s bed, because his room was the nearest and also they had no time to set up one of the guest rooms. He was still bleeding, but now he had bandages on his chest and a pillow behind his head.  
“Don’t worry, Cas, he’s safe here”  
Castiel smiled, affection in his eyes and life in his skin, while Dean was pale, his chest still and blood on his shirt.  
“Thank you, Sam”  
Sam smiled, lifeless like his brother, empty like the place that he was supposed to call home. He saw the question coming when the darkness reached Castiel’s eyes.  
“Dean?”  
Soft, painful, a scream disguised as a whisper.  
“In his room”  
A nod and Castiel was gone.   
Sam sat beside his bed, his eyes burning and his chest aching. He looked at the naked walls, thinking about all the weapons that Dean put in his room, remembering the enthusiastic smile on his brother face as he could cook in a real kitchen and sleep on a real bed that was only his own.  
A soft, broken smile showed up on his face. It tasted like tears.  
“Sam!”  
_Dean_. Was his first thought. _Dean is back. Dean is breathing, he’s alive_.  
Hearing Castiel’s scream, only that hope crossed his mind. He ran through the corridors, his heart beating too fast as he expected to find his brother if not on his feet at least awake, at least _breathing_.  
Hopes are dangerous, because when he found Castiel, alone, standing in front of an empty bed, he felt like he was going to break down and cry forever.  
“Where is he?”  he managed to ask though.  
“Gone” Castiel replied, handing him a piece of paper.  
_Sammy, let me go_.  
   
   
**\- Day 2nd**  
   
The silence was the worst torture he could think of.  
He walked in the bunker, feeling Dean’s absence in every empty room, even if he avoided his brother’s bedroom. Dean was in the dishes that he still had to clean, because it was his turn and there was no way Sam would do it for him; Dean was in the empty chair at the table while Sam was busy researching on his laptop; Dean was in the dirty shirt left in the bathroom; Dean was in the sandwich Sam had to make himself for lunch because he had no big brother cooking for him.  
It was not so long since his brother had been gone, but Sam practically locked himself in his room, taking care of Gadreel as a way to forget what was missing.  
He soon found out that it didn’t work, so he started _talking_ to the angel. While changing his bandages or making sure that the fever wasn’t too high, he started telling him about Dean, about what an amazing brother and man he was, about that time he stole Christmas presents for him, about when he sold his soul for him and everything else he could think of, because focusing on his brother himself, making an effort to tell a story without sounding boring, even concentrating on the sound of his own voice was a good way to not feel Dean’s absence that much.  
He talked for hours, until his voice became hoarse and his stomach reclaimed food, until the sun went down and he became too tired to keep his eyes opened.  
When he fell asleep, he could do nothing to protect himself from the fact that Dean was gone.  
   
   
**\- Day 4th**  
   
When Gadreel opened his eyes, Sam was talking about that time Dean made a nest of blankets just because he had had a fight with their father and was hiding under the table.  
“That’s not comfortable, Sammy” he had said.  
“I want to stay here” had been the kid’s reply. So, Dean build him a nest, safe and cosy, to share with him until he had been willing to make peace with John.  
Seeing Gadreel awake, Sam interrupted the story immediately, leaning towards him to see if he needed anything, if he was alright. The angel looked at him, his mouth opened as if to take as much air as possible, then he whispered: “Am I dead?”  
Sam was speechless for some moments, because the angel was not scared or sad, he was _hopeful_. He wanted to be dead, he wanted it all to end. And how could Sam blame him? If he wasn’t sure that his brother was out there somewhere he would want the same thing.  
“No” he finally replied. “You’re alive and safe”  
Gadreel just nodded silently, his face empty.  
Sam left the room saying that he had to call Castiel to let him know that his brother was now awake.  
   
   
**\- Day 8th**  
   
That movie was trash: a romance comedy with poor acting and a storyline that was predictable and commonplace. Sam normally would keep zapping until he found something worth watching, but right now he just didn’t care, so he dropped the remote and kept staring at the blonde chick laughing almost hysterically.  
He tried to think about the DVDs they had in the bunker, almost certain to find something better than that, but in the exact moment in which he realised that it would have meant going to Dean’s room to take them he let it go.  
He knew that he wouldn’t pay that much attention to the TV, anyway.  
The sound of someone knocking made him turn.  
“May I come in?” Gadreel asked, even if the door was half-opened.  
“Yeah” Sam answered.  
The angel stepped in, dressed with his usual clothing – minus the leather jacket: when Gadreel found out how much it reminded Sam of Dean, he just put it away without thinking twice -, standing on his own feet, his skin no longer so pale.  
He was getting better pretty fast, but Castiel said that until the sigil hadn’t completely disappeared from his chest he would not be able to use all his powers.  
“May I stay here?” Gadreel asked. Sam could see and almost _feel_ his fear of rejection.  
“Sure” he replied, forcing a smile that maybe looked natural. “Sit here”  
Gadreel gave him a look of genuine surprise – was he expecting to be sent away? – before smiling and doing as he had been told.  
“Thank you, Sam Winchester”  
   
   
**\- Day 10th**  
   
Sam found a case.  
He was surfing the net, hoping to find anything that had the scent of a demon and could give him the hope to find Crowley and his brother, so he came across a female murder not far away from there. It could be a demon like a dozen of other creatures, but he wasn’t taking the risk. He decided to go.  
Gadreel tried to ask to go with him, but he was not well enough to fight a demon yet.  
“Just take care of yourself, I’ll be back soon”  
Sam left the bunker without looking back, the angel’s look of concern stuck on his back for the whole ride.  
   
   
**\- Day 12th**  
   
He came back in the morning. It wasn’t a demon, after all, and he killed that son of a bitch the night before. He crushed in a motel and came back to the bunker when he woke up.  
He stood there, demon blood on his hands and a sore arm, while Gadreel was sitting exactly where he left him, his eyes lost in the nothingness and his hands jointed like in a prayer. When the angel noticed his presence, he stood up and approached him, looking worried. Sam found the ghost of Dean in that expression.  
“Are you alright?” Gadreel asked, searching for wounds with his eyes.  
Sam nodded. He didn’t know if he was annoyed by that concern that made Dean’s absence even heavier and that stupid note, “ _Sammy, let me go_ ”, even clearer in his mind, or if he was somehow flattered by it, if it almost felt like home.  
“I’m okay. That’s not mine” he replied, showing the blood on his hands to Gadreel.  
The angel continued to analyse him with his eyes. Sam kind of felt uncomfortable under his sight.  
 “I need to take a shower now” he said.  
Gadreel took a step back, nodding and looking a little uncomfortable as well, like a child caught stealing cookies.   
“Yes– of course. I’ll wait here then”  
Sam nodded, walking away. He turned back to see Gadreel sitting again on the same chair.  
   
   
**\- Day 13th**  
   
Gadreel didn’t need to eat.  
Still, when Sam had breakfast or lunch or dinner, he sat there at the same table, where the Winchester put another plate and glass out of habit. Gadreel did nothing but stare at him for the whole meal, but Sam didn’t feel like he could complain: he did it only to keep him company, he meant well.  
They didn’t talk.  
At breakfast, they said “Good morning” to each other, Sam asked how Gadreel was feeling and that was that, until the hunter put the empty cup in the sink and said that he would go for a run.  
At lunch, there were two plates and only one guy eating, while the other just stared. No words, only breathing and sickness hitting Sam as he thought about his brother and Kevin, and how when they were there you couldn’t have a moment of silence even if you begged for it.  
At dinner, there were still two plates and only one guy eating. Silence between them, their eyes never met for the whole meal.  
“I’m coming” Sam said every time, walking closer to the sink to wash the dishes. “ _Wait for me in my room”_ were the unspoken words. When the hunter went to his bedroom to watch a movie, Gadreel was already there, waiting patiently for him.  
   
   
**\- Day 14th**  
   
That movie was about angels.  
Maybe it was a sad choice, but the alternative was entitled “ _Forgiveness_ ”. Sam didn’t feel like watching it.  
   
   
**\- Day 15th**  
   
Gadreel always set on the left side of the bed.  
The first night, he stayed almost on the edge and it looked like he was going to fall, sooner or later. Sam said nothing.  
It went like this for a while, then Gadreel started to be closer and closer, until their hands almost touched and none of them was risking to fall on the ground.  
Sam noticed that only after a while, when he turned and saw that the angel’s face was really too close. He moved towards the right, trying not to be noticed. He failed.  
   
   
**\- Day 16th**  
   
“I can find another source of entertainment” Gadreel said.  
Sam couldn’t see his face, because he was busy washing the dishes and he didn’t want to turn, anyway.  
“No- that’s- no” he quickly answered “That’s fine. I… appreciate your company”  
“As you wish” Gadreel replied, walking away, probably towards Sam’s room. He would then go there and find him on his bed, like always, staring at the turned off TV, waiting for the movie to appear.  
Sam wasn’t sure if he told him a lie.  
   
   
**\- Day 17th**  
   
“Do you like it?”  
The question broke the sacred silence that’d become a sort of tradition, like it was impossible to speak during a movie. Maybe Sam just wanted to forget that there was _Gadreel_ sitting beside him and not Dean, maybe it was just too difficult to talk with all that things left unspoken between them.  
But that night the question came out on its own, Sam didn’t even think about it, his mouth just opened.  
Gadreel seemed surprised, but he answered almost immediately: “It’s… Strange”  
“Why?” Sam prompted. Now that they started talking, he found the words more comfortable than the silence.  
They were watching _Titanic_ , because the remote didn’t work, so Sam preferred to watch the sad movie for default than going around hoping to find a pair of batteries – he tried not to think about what Dean would tell him, about how he would yell “The Hell I’m going to watch this crap” and run to find a damn pair of batteries or a DVD.  
“Why wouldn’t he – Gadreel pointed at the protagonist’s boyfriend – be happy for her? She is obviously in love with the other man”  
“He’s the bad guy” Sam replied.  
“He claims he loves her”  
“He doesn’t”  
Gadreel stayed silent for a while.  
“He’s a liar” he stated, looking at Sam intensely.  
The hunter nodded. “Yeah”  
“But why would humans make a movie about a ‘bad guy’?” Gadreel asked, saying the last two words like they were something strange, to taste carefully.  
Sam felt like he was talking with a child, one with lots of hard question, one of those that embarrass you to death while keeping an innocent smile on their face.  
“Well…” Sam replied “In real life we do have bad guys”  
The movie was still going, but none of them was paying attention.  
“But this is fictional. It’s supposed to be a good world. It’s supposed to be projection of a man’s mind, isn’t it? Of his dreamy world. Why would he dream about a liar that doesn’t want two good people to be happy together?”  
Sam found out that he liked to hear him talk.  
Gadreel was not the type of guy that spent too many words at one time, but his voice was calm and relaxing, almost like a lullaby. Sam remembered that when the angel was still inside him – though that were not good times to think about – he would hear this voice in his head, the voice of a stranger coming from inside him. It happened when he was falling asleep, or dreaming, he couldn’t tell, so he always thought that it was just a strange recurring dream. Now he knows that it was Gadreel, somehow singing him to sleep.  
“It’s not exactly like that” Sam tried to explain “You know, when people watch a movie, they want to find themselves in it. Like, they want to see the obstacles they have to face in their everyday life. So, even though in the movies love usually wins, because you’re not totally wrong when you say that it’s a sort of ‘dreamy world’, the protagonists always have at least one enemy.”  
Gadreel was looking at him with such attention that Sam almost started feeling uncomfortable under his sight. He had the impression that the angel could still read his mind, see everything like in an open book, stare at his soul and even touch it, somehow. Had Gadreel’s fingers ever touched his soul? Did he have some kind of mark inside him, like the handprint that Castiel left on Dean’s shoulder after rescuing him from Hell?  
“Plus,” Sam added, just to do something instead of just staring at the angel. “it would be pretty boring to watch two people kissing and smiling all day, don’t you think? There would be no movie”  
Gadreel waited just a moment before saying: “I see. All this is really interesting. But I don’t.”  
“You don’t what?” Sam asked, confused.  
“I don’t think that watching two people’s happiness would be boring. What’s better than the happiness of humanity? Why should I prefer to watch them suffering?” Gadreel asked, and looked so sincere that Sam almost was left speechless. The genuine devotion in his eyes, devotion for people that he didn’t even know and _longing_ for their happiness hit him hard, like a good poem that touched some sore subjects.  
“Yeah… Maybe you are right” Sam said, after a while, looking at the screen for just a moment. Jack was doing his portrait of Rose.  
“You know, I don’t want to see this” he said, quickly, jumping to turn off the TV as soon as possible. It was stupid, but he didn’t want Gadreel to see how that story ended. “I think I’m going to bed”  
The angel seemed confused, and Sam couldn’t blame him: a moment ago they were talking and watching a movie, now he had just jumped on his feet like the bed was on fire.  
“As you wish” Gadreel said, standing up and walking out of the room. “But I’d like to know how that story ended”  
“The ending is a kiss between Rose and Jack” Sam answered truthfully, but omitting all the sad part in the middle, with Jack dead and Rose married to another. It was not necessary to tell the angel that that kiss happened in the afterlife, anyway.  
“Are they happy?” Gadreel asked.  
“I think so, yeah” was Sam’s reply.  
“Good. I’m happy for them. Goodnight, Sam.”  
“Goodnight”  
Sam lied on his bed, still warm because they had been sitting on it for a while, turned off the light and closed his eyes. The door was left half-opened out of habit: he and Dean grew up sleeping in the same room or even bed, so when they arrived in the bunker they felt uncomfortable with all that space dividing them. For the first couple of nights, Dean had slept on the floor outside of his brother’s room. Sam could tell because he was awake, incapable of sleeping – the problem wasn’t the new place, given the fact that they travelled their whole life, but the fact that _Dean_ was not by his side in that new place; it was like his brother carried with him that warm feeling that most people call “being at home”.  
When Dean had started to really sleep in his own room for the whole night, he always made sure that Sam’s door was left half-opened, so that if he screamed or anything he could hear him.  
“Don’t worry, I’ll run to you if I have a nightmare, promise” Sam had teased him the first time. Dean had politely told him to fuck off while going to his room without a goodnight.  
Sam’s door was still like that even now that Dean was no longer there to worry about him. Sam wondered where he was and what he was doing, trying to figure out how to track him. He realized that he hadn’t heard from Castiel in a while and said to himself that he’ll call him tomorrow.  
Realizing that he’ll never fall asleep thinking about that, Sam tried to focus on something like a blackboard or the famous sheep that he should count, hoping for that to work soon, because he hated the hours before sleeping, when he was alone with his thoughts in his dark and empty room.  
That night, he dreamt about Kevin, lying on the floor with empty, open wide eyes while Sam drank blood from his neck. He smelled the scent of burning meat, while the power flue through his veins.  
_I can save Dean now_. He thought, seeing so clear his brother screaming under Crowley’s tortures. A part of him screamed in pain, because Kevin was still dead under him and he was the one who killed him, while Dean’s cries echoed in his head.  
Then, in a moment, everything became black and Sam stopped dreaming.  
   
   
**\- Day 18th**  
   
“Okay. See you then, Cas, thank you”  
Sam put the phone down. What was he expecting? For Castiel to say “Oh, yeah, I’ve found your brother yesterday, but I forgot to tell you, sorry, man”? The angel would call him immediately at the first suspect that Dean was anywhere near him, that was the deal.  
But still, he felt disappointed.  
There had been no improvement at all: his brother was still only God knows where and Castiel was feeling bad because of the stolen grace he had inside him. Not that he complained about it: Sam noticed only because he coughed often and his voice sounded tired. It didn’t seem too bad, though.  
Sam looked at his watch: it was 8:20 a.m.  
Where was Gadreel? Usually at that time he was already there. Thinking about it, the angel hadn’t even shown up for breakfast, which was pretty unusual too. Sam at the time had been too busy looking for any demoniac signs in the online newspapers to notice the absence of the silent angel, but now it became pretty clear.  
Was it possible that he had gone out alone without even telling him?  
“Gadreel?” Sam called, and the name tasted strange on his lips.  
The hunter stood up and walked straight towards the angel’s room.  
“Gadreel?” he called again, knocking as loudly as possible. “Gadreel, are you okay?”  
Nothing. That was strange.  
“Gadreel? I’m coming in” he warned, waiting for a reply that didn’t come. He found out that the door had been left opened, so he just pushed it.  
The room was empty, not only because the angel wasn’t in there, also because there was literally nothing more than a bed, a bedside table and a wardrobe. Everything was exactly like when Sam opened that door a couple of weeks ago and said: “This is your room”.  
It was like Gadreel hadn’t even put a foot in there.  
Sam decided that it was none of his concern how the angel spent the night and that it would be better to find him instead.  
“Gadreel!” he called, louder than before, searching through the corridors of the bunker.  
He wasn’t in the kitchen nor in the bathroom. He even checked Dean’s place, just to be sure, and found nothing.  
“Gadreel, do you hear me?” he called once again, but, receiving no answer, he decided to look outside. He didn’t even bother to put on some clothing and just went out in his pyjamas. The freezing air hit him hard, making him shiver violently, but Sam didn’t even think about going back in to take a jacket or something.  
“Gadreel!” he called again. He’d said that name so many times in the past minutes that it didn’t taste strange anymore. Instead, it was becoming almost familiar, because it tasted like worry and fear, two things that had always been part of his life.  
He thought about Castiel, asking himself how he would react if Gadreel had been captured or something because _he_ wasn’t paying enough attention. He wondered how _he_ would react if he relayed on Cas to take care of Dean and the angel lost him. He would be angry, he would be fucking angry. But he knows that Castiel wouldn’t blame him, that he would just start to look for his brother while also looking for Dean.  
“Gadreel!” Sam screamed, walking around the entrance of the bunker in search of a place where the angel would like to go. Nothing.  
Though, he remembered a big garden not far away from there. It was abandoned, but there were people that once in a while went there to fix it a little bit. He remembered that when Gadreel was inside him he himself felt a sort of appeal towards that garden, the flowers and stuff. He even bought a plant and placed it in the bunker, receiving a “What the fuck, dude” look from Dean, that called him “Samantha” for a couple of days and kept proposing him to wear a flower crown.  
Sam jumped in the car, hoping to be right and find Gadreel in that garden.  
It wasn’t a long ride, he could easily walked there, but he wanted to be as fast as possible. Damn, Gadreel wasn’t completely healed yet, he couldn’t just go away without telling him. There were dangers outside of the bunker and a weakened angel that not so long ago almost died and _was_ _still recovering from it_ should not walk away alone. Sam only hoped to find him there sniffing a flower. Dean being missing was not enough, no, now he had to lost the angel that he promised Castiel he would take care of. He was an idiot incapable of doing anything right.  
He was thankful that Dean was the older brother: if Sam had had to take care of him while dad was hunting for all those years, by now he would be an only child.  
He arrived at the garden and stormed outside of the car, leaving the keys in, calling the angel. He didn’t receive any answer, but he saw a dark spot in the grass. He ran towards it.  
“Gadreel!” he called, once he was closer and it became clearer that it was, in fact, him. “Gadreel, are you okay?”  
Stupid question: he didn’t look okay at all.  
“Sam” the angel grumbled, hoarsely.  
“You idiot, what did you think you were doing?” Sam sighed, relieved. He was not okay, but at least he had found him.  He hadn’t lost him too.  
“Here, let me help” the hunter said, reaching for the angel and helping him to stand on his feet. Gadreel moaned in pain, the shirt red with blood, while Sam made him put an arm around his shoulders and ordered to lean on him.  
Gadreel was heavier than he though when he saw Castiel carrying him in the bunker. The angel was completely leaning on him, his head abandoned on his shoulder as if keeping it up was too much of an effort. He was walking, though, dragging his feet to keep up with Sam’s steps as much as possible.  
“We’re almost there” Sam encouraged him, though the car was not so near. It felt strange, having an angel of the Lord leaning against him. That was one of the most powerful things in the universe, with enormous wings and the strength to kill three demons without effort, but right now Gadreel just looked like a beaten up boy in desperate need for help. He was helpless, barely conscious, completely dependent on his saviour.  
Sam felt important. He was ashamed of it, but he felt like he was doing something right for once. He’d seen his brother dying in his arms and then disappear, leaving only a note behind him, his own hands had killed Kevin, he could do nothing about Castiel’s grace, he couldn’t find his brother. But Gadreel was there, still alive, an arm around his shoulders and blood on his chest, his eyes almost closed, but _alive_. He had not failed him yet.  
   
Gadreel lost consciousness during the ride back home, after having apologized at least a couple of times. Sam wanted to hear none of it now.  
He had to carry him and almost killed himself on the stairs, but in the end he managed to put the angel on his bed. He put some bandages on, finding out that the wound was opened again and the sigil was clearer than ever, bleeding like crazy.  
He cursed under his breath, cleaning the wound and then letting Gadreel rest.  
At lunch time, Sam sat alone in the kitchen.  
There were still a plate and a glass in front of him, but no one was sitting there, staring at him silently, trying to make him feel Dean’s absence less.  
The room was completely empty now and Sam didn’t think that he would miss so much having an angel sitting in front of him: it was a silent company, how could he have known that it would make such a difference?  
In the end, he took his lunch and brought it in his room, to eat while watching Gadreel rest, even if it was the angels who were supposed to watch over people, not humans.  
   
   
**\- Day 19th**  
   
_Kevin was standing there, looking at him with a smile on his face and absolute trust in his eyes. He was saying something about the holy water in his coffee, when Sam felt his hand raising against his will. He knew what was coming, but could do nothing to stop it._  
_“Ran away, Kevin, get away from me!” he tried to shout, but found no voice to do so. Instead, his hand was placed on the boy’s forehead. Blood started coming out from Kevin’s nose, eyes and mouth, while Sam felt guilt and sorrow hitting him like punches in the gut. The boy fell on the floor, but when he hit the ground it was Dean who was lying there, lifeless._  
No, no, no _. Sam desperately thought, kneeling beside him and trying to wake him up. When tears had already started to fall, Dean suddenly opened his eyes. They were completely white, like Lilith’s ones._  
_“Sammy, let me go”_  
   
Sam woke up breathing heavily, his brother’s voice still echoing in his head. He felt pain everywhere and realized that he had slept on a chair next to Gadreel’s bed. Actually, it was Sam’s bed: he choose his room because it had a TV in it and all his stuff, while the angel’s bedroom was empty.  
Gadreel woke up ten minutes later.  
“Good morning. How are you feeling?” Sam asked, looking at the angel’s chest to see if the bandages where dyed red. White, not even a drop of blood. Good.  
“Better. Thank you, Sam Winchester” Gadreel replied, turning towards him. When he thanked him, the hunter noticed, the angel always used name and surname, as if to give importance to the moment.  
“You’re welcome” Sam replied, starting to feel hungry. He gave a look at the watch and found out that it was 9.45 a.m. already. Well, he hadn’t slept almost the whole night, so it was normal that he hadn’t woken up at 7.00 a.m.  
He wanted to have breakfast, but he demanded answers before.  
“What were you doing?” he asked, with a little anger in his voice.  
“Going out for a walk” Gadreel answered.  
“And a walk reduced you like that?”  
“I… may have tried to use my powers” Gadreel admitted, with shame.  
Sam was left speechless for a couple of seconds.  
“You’re joking… right?”  
“I’m afraid I’m not”  
Sam took a deep breath, trying not to lash out in that exact moment. He had lived his whole life with a man like that, an I-am-always-fine-don’t-bother-me-Sammy type of guy, and his normal response with Dean was fighting and calling him out on his foolishness. But this was not his brother, this was Gadreel, and he knew him well enough to predict that he would not embrace the fight, so screaming would be useless.  
“Why?” he managed to ask after a while, quietly as a direct consequence of his forced calm.  
“I thought I was doing better” Gadreel answered. He seemed relieved and surprised at the same time: he probably _expected_ Sam to scream and beat the crap out of him. “I _felt_ better. Without my powers, I’m useless. I wanted to try and see if I got my strength back”  
Sam sighed.  
“Listen, I’ve never had powers and I’m not useless. I can teach you how to use a gun or something, if you want, but with that idiotic move you opened the wound again, so it’ll take more time to heal.”  
Gadreel looked ashamed, his eyes away from Sam’s and the expression of a sorry child who’s being called out by a parent. Trying to force himself to do something “big” was a great mistake: the angel was starting to feel better and could even do some little things, or at least that’s what he said, he only had to wait for the sigil to be gone and he would be alright. Now he made a mess.  
“You mustn’t go out without telling me, you understand?” Sam continued.  
“You were sleeping” Gadreel said, carefully, as if he had no right to explain himself.  
“The next time you wake me or wait until I do that myself. Okay?”  
Gadreel nodded.  
“Good. I’m gonna eat something”  
   
   
**\- Day 20th**  
   
Gadreel was still in his bed. He tried to tell him that he could move in his own room, but Sam didn’t even listen to him: they watched a movie together, as always, something about zombies and love stories born during that Apocalypse – “Isn’t it incredible how humans can find joy in such dark times?” “Yeah, it is” –, but when it was time to sleep the hunter moved into another room.  
At first, he wanted to go in Castiel’s untouched room or Gadreel’s, but then he found himself staring at Dean’s door. He opened it and found everything so familiar, so cosy, that he just crashed on his brother’s bed, putting the note on the bedside table and closing his eyes.  
He woke up a couple of hours later due to a nightmare. He tried to fell asleep again, but the only things that he could think about were Hell and Dean, while fear and sorrow kept him awake.  
He decided to go in the living room to read something or use his laptop, just to pass the time. He walked in front of his room, the door left half-opened, so he stopped to glance at Gadreel: he was resting, his eyes closed and a hand on his chest. Angel didn’t need to sleep, but when they were hurt they healed faster if they stepped into some kind of coma for a few hours.  
Sam wondered if he was feeling pain. Would he hear him if he called?  
The bunker was big and, even if the sounds echoed, how loud could the scream of someone in pain be? Gadreel had always moaned because of the pain, never screamed. It was possible that he wouldn’t struggle to be heard if he needed help.  
Sam nodded, as to tell himself that he was right, and went to take a chair and his laptop. He sat outside of Gadreel’s door, his ears open in case there was any sound. He could hear the angel breathing regularly. He felt less lonely.   
   
   
**\- Day 21st**  
   
Sam found a new case. It seemed something that a demon could do, so, even if Gadreel wasn’t feeling that good, he couldn’t ignore it like he did with the last one, that seemed a ghost-thing. He’d just called another hunter and left him the job.  
But _this_ could take him to Crowley, _to Dean_ , so staying at home was not an option.  
“I’m sorry, I _really_ have to go” he said, looking at Gadreel still sitting on his bed.  
“As I’ve already told you, it’s not a problem. I feel better” the angel said.  
“Excuse me if I don’t believe you” Sam replied, regretting not having taught him how to use a phone. He’ll do it as soon as possible. “Don’t do anything stupid, alright?”  
“You have my word” Gadreel replied.  
Sam nodded and started to turn around, leaving the angel contemplating the ceiling. He remembered when he came back from the last hunt and found him sitting on a chair, doing nothing. He felt guilty.  
“Here” he said, handing the angel the first book of _Game of thrones_. “Read this to kill the time”.  
   
   
\- **Day 22nd**  
   
Sam came back with a split lip and no clue of where his brother was.  
He sighed, leaving the bag with the weapons on the table while he just wanted to punch something. That demon knew nothing about Crowley, or if he did he died without telling anything. Castiel hadn’t called, so Dean was still fucking missing.  
He hid his face in his hands, then decided to check on Gadreel. He found him sitting on the bed, still reading the book and looking interested.  
“Hey. You okay?” Sam asked, knocking on the open door.  
Gadreel lifted his head up.  
“I’m feeling good, thank you. How did the hunt go?”  
“I killed the demon” Sam answered. Neither good nor bad. He succeeded, but he didn’t find his brother or anything even remotely related to him.  
“Are you hurt?” Gadreel asked, noticing the dry blood on his lip.  
“No, I’m fine. Just a scratch. Do you like the book?”  
Gadreel had been around since the dawn of time, he was curious about his opinion on a book of their time.  
“It’s good” the angel answered “Ned Stark is a man of honour”  
Maybe he should have warned Gadreel that in that damn series _everyone_ died, sooner or later. But why did he have to pick up the first one to pass?  
   
   
**\- Day 25th**  
   
Sam woke up after a dreamless sleep.  
It’d happened very often in  that period and he couldn’t say that he wasn’t happy about it: no dreams meant no nightmares. Yes, he was a little more tired than usual when he woke up a from a night without dreams, but considering that nightmares reduced him to a mess and also his whole life he’d slept half the hours he could afford in the bunker, it was nothing a cup of coffee couldn’t fix.  
When he arrived in the kitchen, he found Gadreel already there and the coffee already prepared.  
Confused, he asked: “Did you do this?”  
Gadreel nodded. “I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to thank you for… everything, I’d say”  
“No- Well- That’s- That’s fine, thank you. I just… wasn’t expecting it. Thank you” Sam worried to say, not wanting to seem ungrateful or anything. He was really surprised: he got used to Gadreel’s presence in the bunker and chatting with him about books and movies, exchanging opinions about the characters and the plot, became an essential pleasure, especially during the meals. Gadreel was smart and ready to learn new things, he believed in the goodness of humanity and longed for them to be happy. His favourite characters where usually “men of honour”, as he called them, those people that were loyal to their country or family and fought for them ‘til their last breath, but still respected their enemies. Good people, in two words.  
Sam found evil, complicated characters more appealing, so their discussions about that were long and really interesting, with all the exchange of opinions. One evening they were so busy talking about _Harry Potter’_ s characters that Sam didn’t finish his dinner and they realized how late it was only at 11.30 p.m.    
“I hope it’s good. I followed the description on that book” Gadreel explained, pointing at a cookbook.  
Sam nodded and started to drink his coffee. He could feel his mouth forcing him to smile wide, because that little gesture made him almost feel at home, like he truly had a friend to keep him company during those dark times.  
“It’s wonderful. Thank you, Gadreel”  
   
   
**\- Day 30th**  
   
Gadreel liked the cooking programs.  
He found them appealing, even if he wasn’t able to explain why to Sam. They watched _Hell’s Kitchen_ all evening and, after Sam told him that no, it wasn’t literally about Hell, it’s just a phrase, the angel found really unfair how the chef kept yelling.  
“He makes them nervous” Gadreel complained, not seeming to understand _why_ the chef would do such a thing. “It’s counterproductive, they don’t work any better with that kind of pressure upon them. That’s not a good leader”  
Sam just smiled, shaking his head while eating a bunch of pop corns. His leg was almost touching Gadreel’s, but neither of them moved.  
Midnight had passed when he started to be tired. His head felt heavy and he found himself wanting to close his eyes and just sleep, in that comfortable position, with a couple of pillows behind him and the remote in his right hand.  
The chef was yelling at a participant whose rice was “cooler than a penguin’s home”, Gadreel kept looking at him with disapproval-  
_Sam saw the fire burning the bunker, he saw Dean running back in screaming his name, but he was out there, watching helplessly as his brother faded in the flames._  
He woke up with a gasp, realizing that he had fallen asleep without even realizing it.  
“I… I guess I’m tired” he said, heavy breathing, silently asking Gadreel to leave.  
He almost did it. He almost fell asleep next to Gadreel.  
He couldn’t bring himself to do it, he couldn’t trust the angel with is unconscious body. Even if part of him felt sorry for it, he just _couldn’t_.  
Gadreel didn’t argue: he just nodded and said goodnight, walking away with his head a little low. Sam watched him leave without a word, his heart beating too fast as Kevin’s death rolled by in front of his eyes.  
   
From that moment, Sam started to sit in uncomfortable positions at night, a little more farther from Gadreel, and started to drink coffee at the beginning of every movie.  
The angel never once commented on it, but Sam was sure he’d noticed.  
   
   
**\- Day 36th**  
   
_Hell was cold. Sam remembered that very well. He remembered the flames on his skin, but they weren’t hot: they felt like ice in his hands, it burned and made him shiver, it_ hurt _. Lucifer laughed, playing with him, calling him his bitch._  
_Sam felt him breaking every bone in his body, one by one, making him experience a pain too absolute and unbearable to be only physical. Torturing a soul means torturing the very essence of a person. Making them feel the pain twice._  
_A robe tightened around his neck, pulling him up, taking his breath away._  
_“Was it worth it, saving your stupid brother and a world that will never recognize what you did?” Lucifer asked._  
_With knives and freezing flames torturing his skin, Sam couldn’t even think about an answer. He only knew that he couldn’t remember his brother’s face - it was covered in too much blood, his own blood, that he was tasting in that moment and that he could see on the ground -, he couldn’t even tell what his name was._  
_He only remembered the warmth of his embrace, the way it felt when he held him tight with his strong arms, as if he could shield him from all the bad the world._  
_His brother was standing in front of him, a broken smile and his clothes covered in blood._  
_“I remember you, now” Sam wanted to say, but words didn’t seem enough, so he just ran towards him, burying his face in Dean’s shoulder, feeling so small in his big brother’s arms._  
_“Sammy, let me go”_  
   
Sam woke up feeling a soft touch on his forehead.  
It took him just a couple of seconds to know that it wasn’t a dream and to grab the hand while pulling out the gun under his pillow. He found himself pointing the weapon against Gadreel’s head.  
“What the Hell are you doing here?!” Sam yelled, letting him go and sitting on the bed, while Gadreel took a couple of steps back.  
“I… You were having a nightmare…” the angel tried to explain.  
“And so?” Sam replied, his heart beating fast, incapable of shaking off the thought of Gadreel bent on his unconscious body. “I have lots of those!”  
“Not recently” Gadreel replied, looking away the following second.  
Sam didn’t know if it was because they shared a body – _his_ body –, or just because he read the guilt on his face, but he understood immediately what those two words meant.  
“Was it you?” he asked, calmer than he would have guessed.  
Gadreel nodded, still not looking at him in the eye.  
“I came here every night, to watch over you. I sent away your nightmares every time you started to scream in your sleep”  
Sam gnashed his teeth, taking a deep breath while nodding and trying to count to ten, because he was going to fucking kill him, angel or not.  
“Did you possess me? Again?” he asked.  
“No!” Gadreel replied immediately. “I just had to put my hand your forehead and… come in for a couple of seconds, to send the nightmare away. Then leave immediately. It wasn’t possession, just… visiting. Like communicating in a dream”  
_Breathe, Sam, breathe. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, t-_  
“How dare you!” Sam screamed, his eyes burning with rage and tears. “After all that you’ve done, _how dare you_ do such a thing! Gadreel, for fuck’s sake, you can make a mistake like that one time, _not_ two!”  
Gadreel didn’t try to stand up for himself, he just looked at him, keeping his head down and waiting for him to finish. For some reason, this behaviour just made Sam angrier.  
“You should have asked me if I wanted you to do it! You shouldn’t have done what you wanted _with my head_!”  
Sam knew perfectly well that he would’ve said “No”. He wouldn’t have wanted Gadreel inside him, even if sometimes he missed that feeling, like he wasn’t completely alone and he was really happy with is life, for once. He wouldn’t have wanted the angel that killed Kevin to walk inside his mind again, not even to send away his nightmares.  
Now everything was clearer: when Gadreel was unconscious or too weak to even heal a scratch, the nightmares came back, but he didn’t associate them with him. He should have.  
“Get out of my sight, before I stab you with an angel blade” Sam growled, the most threating expression on his face. “Get out of here!” he yelled then.  
Gadreel nodded, whispering an apology while getting out of the room and closing the door behind him.  
Sam just stared angrily at it, feeling the tears burning in his eyes. He throw himself on the bed, his hands covering his face while the weight of everything that happened crushed on him: the Mark of Cain that made Dean become a bomb ready to blow up, Kevin dead in front of him, his brother’s last message on the pillow, the fights because of the possession, the anger, the betrayal, Dean’s blood on his hands and his lifeless body in his arms, Castiel that coughed too often and talked too slowly, Dean still missing, the little trust that maybe he was starting to place in Gadreel, “ _Please, take care of him. He meant well, just like me_ ” and now this new violation, this new betrayal.  
He cried.  


End file.
